Seirei

One Dragonslayer Blade, a map with no destination, and a grin held in place by sheer memory. They arrived in The Crystal Highlands of Armaria as part of a famed exploration team, their optimism as bright as the region’s sunsets. Seirei was the one who rallied the others, who saw adventure in every glowing monolith and promise in every spinning crystal. Then came the pulse. An unforeseen surge of raw magic from the dark fortress, a wave of silent, colorless energy that scoured the plateau clean. Seirei only survived because a slab of obsidian fell and shielded them. They awoke to nothing but the hum of the rocks and the empty ponchos of their friends. The grin is for them—a tribute to the joy they lost. The embarrassment in their eyes is for themself.